“If I do run down the fire-escape,” exclaimed Jimmy, wagging his large head from side to side, “I'll keep right on RUNNING. That's the last you'll ever see of me.” “But, Jimmy,” protested Aggie, slightly hurt by his threat, “once that woman gets her baby you'll have no more trouble.” “With you two still alive?” asked Jimmy, looking from one to the other. “She'll be up here if you don't hurry,” urged Aggie impatiently, and with that she pulled Jimmy toward the bedroom door. “Let her come,” said Jimmy, planting his feet so as to resist Aggie's repeated tugs, “I'm going to South America.” “Why will you act like this,” cried Aggie, in utter desperation, “when we have so little time?” “Say,” said Jimmy irrelevantly, “do you know that I haven't had any----” “Yes,” interrupted Aggie and Zoie in chorus, “we know.” “How long,” continued Zoie impatiently, “is it going to take you to slip down that fire-escape?” “That depends on how fast I 'slip,'” answered Jimmy doggedly. “You'll 'slip' all right,” sneered Zoie. Further exchange of pleasantries between these two antagonists was cut short by the banging of the outside door. “Good Heavens!” exclaimed Aggie, glancing nervously over her shoulder, “there's Alfred now. Hurry, Jimmy, hurry,” she cried, and with that she fairly forced Jimmy out through the bedroom door, and followed in his wake to see him safely down the fire-escape. CHAPTER XXVI Zoie had barely time to arrange herself after the manner of an interesting invalid, when Alfred entered the room in the gayest of spirits. “Hello, dearie,” he cried as he crossed quickly to her side. “Already?” asked Zoie faintly and she glanced uneasily toward the door, through which Jimmy and Aggie had just disappeared. “I told you I shouldn't be long,” said Alfred jovially, and he implanted a condescending kiss on her forehead. “How is the little mother, eh?” he asked, rubbing his hands together in satisfaction. “You're all cold,” pouted Zoie, edging away, “and you've been drinking.” “I had to have one or two with the boys,” said Alfred, throwing out his chest and strutting about the room, “but never again. From now on I cut out all drinks and cigars. This is where I begin to live my life for our sons.” “How about your life for me?” asked Zoie, as she began to see long years of boredom stretching before her. “You and our boys are one and the same, dear,” answered Alfred, coming back to her side. “You mean you couldn't go on loving ME if it weren't for the BOYS?” asked Zoie, with anxiety. She was beginning to realise how completely her hold upon him depended upon her hideous deception. “Of course I could, Zoie,” answered Alfred, flattered by what he considered her desire for his complete devotion, “but----” “But not so MUCH,” pouted Zoie. “Well, of course, dear,” admitted Alfred evasively, as he sank down upon the edge of the bed by her side--